


A Culinary Courtship

by Merfilly



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Courtship, F/M, Fluff, Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way to anyone's heart may be through the stomach</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Culinary Courtship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cesy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesy/gifts).



Emily had not expected to take sick so soon after planetfall, but then half the colonists had experienced some cough, ache, or injury in the few months they had been settled. She just had to pride herself on being able to work through the worst of it, or so she thought until even Joel mentioned how miserable she looked.

She settled into her 'nest' on the couch of her quarters, sighing at the spartan design. Really, she should take a minute the next time the nomadic groups came into Landing. They had already begun doing amazing things with the native grasses and reeds in the way of wall coverings and rugs.

A soft knock on the door made her wonder who in the FSP would be calling when most of her friends knew she was sick, even as she struggled to come up out of the thermal blankets she was wrapped in.

The door opened, though, and Pierre stuck his head in, smiling kindly.

"They told me you were here, sick," he said, before stepping fully in, a covered crock carried by its swinging handle in one hand. "They say soup is the answer, and I have been experimenting with the native herbs that the biologists say are good for us."

"Pierre, you shouldn't have," Emily protested, settling in one corner so he could sit at the other. He took the space as close to her as he could, the smile turning into a tut-tut face and sound.

"Now, Emily, who will manage things with you here resting? These things need a woman's hand, especially the hand of talent like your own," he told her. "So you eat my soup, and I see if it is as effective as a remedy, to share with others who have this fever."

Emily could hardly argue with any of those points, and accepted both the small crock, once he secured it on a thermal pad, and the spoon he had thoughtfully secured. From the first sip, she knew she was in love with the taste, and thought she could tell it was clearing her stuffy head.

"Delicious, Pierre," she praised.

"Good." His smile was as warm as the crock she ate from, she decided then.

`~`~`~`~`

"Pierre!" Emily looked exceptionally delighted with herself as she hurried through the communal kitchens to where the chef was stirring a bisque.

"Yes, Emily?" He looked happy to see her, if a little puzzled. She held up the find of the day, a small leaf, and waved it at him.

"All those spicy dishes that you needed horseradish for?" she mentioned, looking at him slyly. "Here!"

He took the leaf, smelling it. The potency was exquisite, and he guardedly got his hopes up as he slowly nibbled at a piece he tore off. The flavor exploded in his mouth, and he had to exclaim softly.

"Perfection!"

"Good." Emily was very pleased with herself, to have made him smile so broadly.

`~`~`~`~`

"For you," Pierre murmured, setting a small plate in front of Emily before moving on. Curiosity piqued, and not yet joined by her table mates, the former planetary governor pulled the napkin from the plate to discover a dessert that looked suspiciously like an eclair. On first bite, she had to close her eyes and consciously stop herself from moaning. It was not true chocolate. It was not even true filling. Yet it was pleasing in texture and taste both, fooling her stomach into believing, for the moment, that her favorite pastry existed once more on Pern.

She would have to find some way to say 'thank you' to the chef in the very near future she decided, before polishing it off so she would not have to share with anyone.

`~`~`~`~`

Emily chided herself for the case of nerves that was building as she slipped around the back of the kitchen to find Pierre. She was a grown woman, with children grown, and the so-called hero of a war's siege on her planet.

"Pierre?" she called, softly.

"Here, Em." The voice guided her back toward the sinks, where he was carefully washing his knives and other utensils from the meal.

"Pierre, I thought, perhaps..." Despite it all, despite the weeks' long sharing of food and findings, she found words failing her to move this forward. Pierre stopped, looking at her with all that kind concern he had shown in pampering her with little treats, and nodded.

"I think I like your thoughts," he told her softly, drying his hands on a towel. He then reached for hers, and she took them, pulling him closer by them.

His kiss, like his smile, made her happy.


End file.
